So Why Were You Molesting That Dog?
by The Hash Slinging Slasher-87-C
Summary: A lucario born with the weirdest of looks and abilities is so out of place, he might was well be considered a defection in society. Oddly, he has the most boring and generic routine you could possibly think of. But when he figures out he lives next to a child abuser, things get very, very interesting.
1. Chapter 1

A lucario was waiting at a bus stop, having finished grading the week's homework early. He was wearing a black pair of dress pants and a white dress undershirt, with a black dress overcoat. He wore black dress shoes, his pants hovering just above his ankle. He held a briefcase in his right hand and an umbrella in his left. His tail was static, swaying left and right on occasion. To top it off, he had a pair of glasses that sat delicately on the bridge of his snout. He was the image of a typical businessman, yet he was a teacher.

He knew it would rain tonight. Tonight. Not exactly when, he just sensed that it was at nighttime. His bangs were different: they didn't sense normal aura. Instead, they sensed a special kind of aura only emitted by most abiotic factors. In other words, he could sense weather. To the disappointment of his parents, he invested his career in teaching at the local middle school. No, the bangs weren't just floppy barometers hanging off the sides of his head. He knew any and every weather change in order of when it would happen, and where. Then again, his skills weren't exactly blessed with accuracy. But judging by the humid air entering his lungs, he knew it would rain soon.

And it did.

Small droplets of water began to drizzle the lucario and his overcoat. He lifted the umbrella and opened it, swinging it over his head. The sounds of gentle flicks of rain hitting the fabric of the umbrella soon filled his sensitive and pointy ears. He waited there in the rain, waiting for the bus to come. He flicked his wrist to see his watch—4:42.

He sighed and put his arm down. It would be a good ten minutes before the bus would come. His eyes, weary and dreary, wandered to the street. He tried to do something to pass the time: like count the yellow lines on the road. He did this for a small while, until he heard the faint clicking of slippers on the ground.

His left ear turned to the sound, and he calmly turned his head.

There stood a light blue lucario that was considerably shorter than him, holding a plastic bag, and wearing a heavy jacket that was quite waterlogged from the rain. It wore a lengthy skirt that bottomed out at the ankles, and just below that he could make out small, black, shiny slippers. If his assumptions on anatomy were correct, he would say it was a…

"Little girl…" he said aloud. "A-are you lost?" She looked up at him and gawked.

"U-uh… sir… y-your… fur…" she managed. The girl pointed to him, and he looked down.

"I am aware of my fur, yes," he said quietly. "It is white." He had this fur since he was born. No dyes, chemicals, bleach, nothing. He also lacked the black fur on his head that resembled a blindfold, making him stand out from the crowd. It was weird at first having people be taken aback by his color, but he got used to it.

"Oh! Um… I'm not lost. I'm—er—was getting things for school." She held up her plastic bag. "Can I use your umbrella? It's getting really hard." She looked up at the rain.

"Yes, of course." She sidestepped under his umbrella, sighing at the protection.

"Why _is_ your fur that color?" she probed.

"It is a genetic inheritance. Very, _very_ recessive trait in my family. The last person to have it was my great, great, great, great grandmother. Unfortunately, it is only passed down from the mothers. I have no sisters, and I am the last one, sadly."

"Oh. I'm sorry, mister."

"Don't be. The color of your fur shouldn't dictate what you do."

"R-r-r-right," she said, as it was getting colder. "H-how are you not stuttering?"

"It comes with the color of my fur. I have a very high tolerance for cold."

"L-l-l-lucky" she said, later chuckling. "I-is your b-body t-temperature the s-same as regul-lar l-lucario?"

"Yes. Oddly. Most ice types have colder body temperature." She gasped.

"Y-you're an _ice_ type?" she exclaimed. He smiled.

"Yes. Also a recessive trait. It comes with my tolerance for the cold, and the fur. I'm one of the few tri-types. Most of my students are jealous about that."

"Y-you're just chock-full of surprises, aren't you mister?" she said, smiling. "W-wait." She turned to him. "How do I know you're not lying?" He took in a slow breath. "Ha! Liar!" She crossed her arms and grinned, placing her weight on one hip. He turned to her and exhaled, small crystals floating to her, coating her face in frost. She scrunched up her nose and dusted it off. The white lucario chuckled.

"Don't assume." She coughed at the end of his sentence.

"So…" she coughed again. "Minty…" she was thrown into a fit of coughing. "I'm dying… help me." He laughed.

"And I didn't even brush my teeth this morning."

"Gross. But it's tolerable" she said, clearing her throat.

"I've heard worse."

"Is snarkiness also part of the trait?" she said, looking up at him and grinning.

"No, it's just the way I talk. I would prefer to be polite than use that retched street-slang."

"Street-slang? What street slang?"

"Children this generation overuse the word 'like', often using them to think about the next sentence. Children these days don't think before they talk…" He looked at her. "But I have noticed you never use that. Why?"

"I was homeschooled. _Was_."

"Really? Well, what made your parents decide for you to be homeschooled until now, then?"

"They couldn't afford it. They homeschooled because… wait… you haven't noticed yet? My tail?" She put her arms out. "Everyone does. That's the first thing people look at."

"Your tail? Well why would I need to look at your tai—" he was interrupted by the most confusing sight. Her tail… was round. Like a pompom. A blue, puffy pompom. Not as small as a rabbit's tail, but more like a beach ball. "M-miss? If you don't mind me asking—"

"It's a birth defect. Extra cartilage. Yet it's really soft. But everyone makes fun of it. They say it's just 'extra baggage.'" She said that last part quietly and slowly hung her head. He shook his head and stood back.

"W-what? It's _beautiful_! Why would anyone say such a horrendous thing about—" he stopped himself, realizing what he just said. Her ears perked up and she looked at him, what he interpreted to be an offended expression. "Oh, dear. I'm sorry, miss," he said, flattening his ears. "I-I was getting ahead of myself. Please forgive me." He pushed his glasses up and swallowed. She stepped back.

"Nobody… _nobody_ … has ever said that to me… ever" she said, tears welling up in her eyes.

"M-miss I'm so sorr—" He was interrupted by the sound of a bag hitting concrete. Something hit him that made his weight to shift to the right, causing him to cringe. He heard deep, sharp breaths and slow, sorrowful moans. The little girl began to cry. He had no idea what to make of this. The lucario frowned.

"You…" she said quietly. "Have no idea how _much_ that means to me…" she cried. "Thank you, so much." She stood there for as long as she could, squeezing onto his leg like it was her lifeline. Her breath permeated his pants and warmed his leg, making him shudder.

"Uh… miss," he said quietly. "The… uh… bus is coming." He leaned forward and pointed down the street. The sounds of breaks screaming echoed down the empty boulevard, filling both of their ears. She let go hastily and wiped off her tears, sniffing. The bus screeched to a stop, and the doors opened. He got on, the bus letting out a metallic groan as his weight was put onto the bus. He was relatively thin compared to other lucario, but he was still a steel-type. His bones were thinner than pokémon of his size, but lucario have a thick coating of metal on all of their bones. Despite his size and how thin he is, he's easily 200 pounds.

The girl following him had the same anatomy, topping herself off at 150, when an average girl of her size should be 90.

He slid past the crowd that was already there, getting weird looks and stink eyes as he went to an empty seat. He sat down next to a machamp, who scooted away and groaned. The lucario let out a sigh at his reaction, and the bus began to move. He saw the girl struggling to stand and hold the pole; her fingers were so numb she couldn't grip it properly. He looked at her and waved his hand to an empty seat next to him, and she quickly stumbled to it. She sat down and breathed a heavy sigh of relief, closing her eyes. He chuckled.

"Cold out there, isn't it?"

"Yeah, very" she said. He looked out the opposite window, enjoying the slanted raindrops slithering on the glass. He heard her softly snoring, and turned his head. The lucario saw a combusken looking at the girl quite proactively, wearing a slight smirk that would easily terrify anyone. But he's been through intimidation before. The combusken shuffled over a few inches toward the girl, looking at her out of the corner of his eye. The lucario let out a sharp exhale through his nostrils, getting his attention. He looked at him and frowned angrily. The eccentric lucario let his jaw hang a little, letting out a deep growl as an icy mist slowly poured out of his mouth, giving the chicken a deathly stare. The combusken's eyes widened, and he shuffled away. He closed his mouth and stopped growling, hearing her stop snoring. She sniffed and yawned, showing off her pointy canines. The girl smaked her lips ans smiled at him.

"Hey, mister. I never caught your name," she said, tilting her head.

"I'm Mason. Mason Bright. But my students call me Mr. Bright."

"Cool name. I'm Allison."

"Well it's nice to meet you, Allison." The bus's breaks screeched and came to a dull stop, letting out a hiss of air. "That's my stop. I hope to see you again, Allison" he said, getting up. She got up and followed him.

"I hope to see you, too." The two got went down the bus, the vehicle letting out a groan of relief as Mason and Allison stepped off. They both walked to an apartment complex.

Mason was getting nervous when the girl went up the same flights of stairs as he did, and walked down the same hall as he did. He was even more paranoid when she stopped behind him once he got to his door.

"Excuse me, Allison, why are you following me?" he said, turning around.

"I-I'm not. My parents live here" she said, pointing to the door opposite from his.

"Oh. I'm sorry. Well… goodnight" he said, turning around to unlock his door.

"Goodnight" she said, doing the same. Mason stepped into his apartment, closing and locking the door behind him. He set his umbrella in a tall basket by the front door and leaned his suitcase against the wall. He sat on the couch and began to take off his shoes.

"Well… it seems as though there's two freaks in this world, eh?" he said, not talking to anyone in particular.

 **Well, this chapter is finally over. Finally. I'll churn out another one within the week, so please stay tuned! I've already written this story once! I just need to re-write it due to spelling, grammar, and other nitpicky stuff that people like St. Elmo's Fire would brood about.**


	2. Chapter 2

**(Warning. This chapter is M rated,and therefore this story has just become M rated. There's no cute lemons in this chapter, but there's mentioning and flashbacks of rape. Viewer discretion is advised.)**

The next morning, Mason walked out of his room carrying wearing the same outfit as yesterday, only dark blue. He lacked an umbrella, sensing that it would be overcast but not raining. He shut the door behind himself and locked it. Mason spun on his heel and jumped backwards at what he saw.

"Jesus!" he yelled.

Allison was standing in front of her door, wearing a white dress that reached mid-calf, holding a brown satchel close to her side. She had a confused look on her face, one ear hanging sideways.

"What?" He pushed his glasses up and regained his composure.

"Eh—uh—h-how long have you been there?" he said, raising an eyebrow.

"Ten minutes. Maybe less. I don't have a watch." She shrugged her shoulders.

"W-why?"

"I wanted to walk with you."

"Where? I need to get to work. You don't happen to go to—"

"Silver Creek Middle? Yeah, I go there. I'm supposed to go today, at least."

"What do you me—oh, for the love of all that's holy…" he said as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "You're bus group two, number 17. It comes along at 7:20. Go get some rest, young lady."

"But I _want_ to walk with you," she said, hanging her head dramatically. "Walking wakes me up."

"Alright," he said. "Come along, now. Lest we be late for the bus."

"I wanted to walk."

"The public bus. The one we took yesterday. Remember?"

"Oh! Right! I'm fine with those."

"The combusken proves otherwise…" he said under his breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing." He walked down the hall with heavy feet, Allison's soon following. Her tail bounced slightly with every step. They stumbled down the stairs, and went to the bus stop. "Yesterday, Allison," he began. "What did you mean by 'You have no idea how much that means to me?' And then you hugged my leg? What's wrong?" She held her breath for a few seconds, closing her eyes.

"I-I'd rather not," she whispered. "Not here… not now."

"I… guess I can understand that. Could you tell me when school's done?"

"Y-yeah, I guess. Sure."

The two walked down the hall and to their doors, stopping when they got there.

"So…" Mason said. "What _happened_?" He opened his door. She darted into his apartment, whizzing past him and landing on a couch.

"C-can we talk? In here?"

"Alright, whatever's comfortable." He walked in and closed the door.

"Um… please… don't call the police if I tell you this…"

"Excuse me? If it warrants the police than I will call them!" He reached for a landline.

"No! Please! Don't!" She grabbed his wrist and jerked him away from the phone.

"Why?"

"Dad won't like it…" she said, looking down.

"Again, why? What does your _dad_ have anything to do with this?" He squinted his eyes and looked at her intently.

"P-please. Hear me out before you do anything. To the end." He leaned back and perked up his ears.

"I'm listening. Go on."

"Dad… he… did… things…" she stuttered.

"What _things…_?" he said, raising his voice.

"Please… be quiet… I don't want you disturbing anyone if you yell.

"Speak." She hesitated and took in a deep breath, putting her hand on her stomach.

"He…"

 _"You fucking cunt!" a blaziken yelled with spittle in his voice as he smacked a lucario upside the head. "You and your damned mind… education… music… why do you make me pay for these things? Money just doesn't appear out of THIN AIR!" He smacked her again._

 _"Please! I'm sorry! Just stop!"_

 _"Your mother… so stupid… now we're broke because of you and her… you're gonna pay…" he said as he picked up a belt. "Very, very handsomely…." He backhanded the belt buckle on her thigh, making her screech. He tossed the belt into a corner and started to tie her to the bed._

 _"Please! No more! I'll be good!"_

 _"So where's the money?" he questioned sarcastically, right before belting her on her stomach, ripping a hole in her dress.. He ripped off the rest of her dress and smacked the buckle right on her thigh, earning a guttural, soon breathless scream from the poor child. He took off his pants and underwear, letting his junk hang for all to see._

 _"W-what? What are you—"_

 _"Suck."_

 _"No!" He grabbed the belt and sent the buckle whipping at her side, making her cry._

 _"Suck." He offered up his manmeat to her face, and she reluctantly obliged. She took it into her maw and slowly sucked on it, shallow breaths traveling through her nostrils. The blaziken grabbed the back of her head and shoved his cock into her throat, fucking her head. She gagged and threw up. "What the fuck!" he yelled. He took the belt and whipped her on the stomach, blood slowly oozing from her fur. "You're lucky I can't break your bones…" he said as he whipped her again on the stomach, her mouth agape and out of breath for an adequate scream. The blaziken mounted her and put the tip to her pussy, making her shake her head left and right. "Oh, yes…" he said as he penetrated her. Her eyes went wide with the sharp pain entering her body, her vagina begging for the foreign matter to be pushed out. He thrusted into her until he came, pulling out and letting his semen drip out of her pussy. He untied her and pinned her to the wall, gripping her neck with his long talons. "You speak of this to anyone…" he whispered as he dragged his other talon across her stomach. "I'll gut the life out of you…" She nodded hastily, and he let her go, her form shaking the room as she fell. She crawled to her room, and silently cried the night away._

"Raped… me…" she said silently. Mason sat there, blankly looking at the poor girl.

"How long? How long ago?" he said quietly.

"L-l-last night..." He slowly nodded.

"Let me see. I won't hurt you." She shakily lifted her dress to see a long bruise on her thigh. She looked at him questioningly, and he said, "You don't have to." She shook her head and lifted her dress more, exposing a long scab just above her belly button. "Has he done this to you before?"

"He has hurt me before… but he hasn't… raped me…"

"Let me call someone… not the police. Yet." She nodded. He picked up the phone and dialed a number.

 _"Hey, Max. Come over, quick."_

 _"Whoa there, buddy. First of all, hello. Secondly, what's shaking?"_

 _"No time. Just come over, quick."_

 _"I can't, there's this trial that I finished, and I need to file some paperwork."_

 _"This is more important than paperwork. Come. Now. A child's life is at stake."_

 _"Oh. I'll be there in 5."_ Mason put the phone back, and looked at her.

"My brother will be here soon."


End file.
